Dechrau, Canol, Diwedd
by reallyhatebananas
Summary: Some things are meant to happen – after all, there's such a thing as fate. ::Hermione, Helga, and a friendship to span the ages:: Because time is a fickle thing and a journey to the past is fraught with peril.


**A/N: **This one was kind of tricky – I wrote it for the Dialogue Competition over at HPFC. My characters were Hermione Granger and Helga Hufflepuff, my prompts were 'too tight' and 'time flies' and the mandatory quote was 'time doesn't stop for you, or anyone.' Oh, and the maximum length is 3,000. By my count the story on its own – _not_ counting the line-breaks – falls easily within the limits. So… enjoy! Un-beta'd. Reviews make my day.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Harry Potter_. I'm also not completely against stealing it. Some things, after all, are more important than the law.

**)O(**_**  
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"Now, Miss Granger, we're here to discuss an important matter."

"Yes, Professor – I expect you've an answer to my question about course selection?"

"Precisely. As you know, students are not typically allowed any sort of special treatment – "

"But I – "

"Please do not interrupt, Miss Granger, or I may have to reconsider."

"Sorry, Professor."

"That's quite all right. Now, as I was saying, your request was quite unusual and therefore unlikely to be granted. _However_, I explained the – ah, _extenuating _circumstances and the Ministry complied."

"Sorry – what circumstances?"

"Good heavens, child; I know you tend to show a certain disregard for the authority at this school – but surely you cannot think us incompetent? You scored one-hundred-twelve and one-hundred forty-three on your Charms and Potions exams – respectively – and that was in first year. Heavens knows you've learned far more by now. We don't let bright minds go to waste."

"I – I – Thank you, Professor!"

"No need for thanks, Miss Granger. Now, _this_ is a Time Turner. I'm sure you know what it does – yes, very good. You are to twist this dial the number of hours you wish to travel back, which will enable you to complete your… unusual schedule. You _cannot be seen _by any version of yourself and you _cannot _allow this to become common knowledge – no, not even Weasley and Potter may know. It is _imperative_ that this remain a secret. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Be sure you do – this is a privilege, Miss Granger, but it is also a responsibility and not to be taken lightly. You will _not_ misuse this in any way or it will be revoked without question."

"I understand, Professor – really."

"All right then. One last thing, and then we can go on to the feast – here, take the necklace and put it around your neck, like so – I want you to become familiar with keeping it hidden – "

"Ouch, it's rather tight. I'll just – oh no!"

"That's all right, Miss Granger, just stay calm – "

"Professor, it's broken! It's shattered – can it be fixed? – Oh God I _broke _it I'm so, so sorry – "

"No – don't touch it – _Miss Granger do not_ – "

"AAAAAAA– ! "

**)O(**

"Ngggghhh."

"Oh – you're awake – Mum said it'd be ages!"

"Ouch, my – WHAT?"

"What?"

"What the – where – where the bloody hell am I?"

"You just popped in here – gave us a right scare, y'know, interrupting our supper – wearing this funny hourglass-necklace. Daddy says it's magical – you _are_ a witch, right?"

"Um. I… think?"

"What d'you mean, you _think_?"

"Well… see… I don't… really… remember…"

"Anything? At all?"

"No, I… sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?"

"It's Helga. Hufflepuff."

"…"

"You all right, there?"

"That's not a – nickname, by any chance, is it?"

"No, silly, of course not!"

"You're. Hufflepuff."

"Well, yes… t'be honest I'm rather surprised you've heard of me…

"…"

"Hey – hey – you all right? Mum? MUM?"

"Oh dear, she seems to be in shock, poor darling. Let her be, Helga, there's a good girl."

"Yes, Mum."

"There now, dear, it's just me and you – calm down now."

"Are you… _Please_ tell me she's – what's your name?"

"I'm Laverne Hufflepuff, love. And who might you be?"

"Hermione Grang – Granthorn. And I think I'm from the future."

"Are you really?"

"Um. Yes."

"Well then, Hermione, why don't you tell me all about it?"

**)O(**

"Wallace!"

"Yes, dearest?"

"Wallace, we've got an unexpected guest."

"Sorry?"

"A _guest_, darling. She's just popped in."

"Oh. Tell her I come bearing greetings from our family name – well, I will in a moment. I need to finish this."

"And how's the experimentation going along?"

"Very well, my love. I've nearly figured it out – the chain's just that, but see this little device here? I'm not certain yet, of course – but I think it may affect time in some way. Travel to the future or whatnot."

"No, actually, I'd wager it takes the user back into the past."

"That's a reasonable hypothesis as well, I supp – Laverne! Do you know something I don't?"

"Why yes, darling, I do. Our guest – she's the one what used that Time Turner – at least, I _think_ that's what she called it. The poor girl's from the future."

"I… oh."

"Exactly."

"Oh, dear."

**)O(**

"So, Miss…?"

"Granthorn, sir."

"Wallace to you, m'dear – Laverne tells me you've come from the future."

"That I have, si – _Wallace_."

"Might I ask when?"

"It was – it was in the late twentieth century, sir."

"Twentieth century? What's that?"

"…The nineteen-hundreds?"

"…Right…"

"And it's… somewhere in the ten-hundreds right now, sir, is that correct?"

"Well, Hermione, to be honest, I haven't the faintest clue what year it is. We've got – months, and days, and year-marks, but we don't keep track."

"…Oh."

"May I infer that this changes sometime in the future?"

"Well, yes, si – Wallace, actually it does. We keep measurements – silly me, though, I _knew_ people didn't start keeping track until the seventeenth century or so – "

"Seventee – Sweet Merlin, child! You're a thousand years in the past, aren't you?"

"Yes. I think. I – "

"Miss Granthorn?"

"_Oh God_ my mum – and dad – and Harry – and Ron _I'm in the bloody past –_ "

"Calm down, child… there, now, that's better. You're in safe hands. Now how exactly did you come about this – Time Turn doohickey? It sounds rather dangerous to me…"

"Well, yes, t'be honest, it is. I go to Hog – to a school of magic, you see – "

"A school of magic? What's that?"

"Oh, um, it's a… place… where loads of young witches and wizards gather to – to learn magic. And adults – they're called teachers – um, teach them… magic. Like spells and history and potions – It's quite fun to be honest; there's a rather extensive library and the homework's not hard, so we've loads of time for free reading – "

"It sounds truly marvelous! If only there was such a place in this time for my little Helga to attend – though I must say we should get back on track, m'dear. We've not all the time in the world."

"Oh. Right. Sorry, sir – like I was saying, I go to this school and last term I asked to take a few classes more than my schedule could fit. Today – well, um, _my_ today, I think – a professor took me aside and said my request had been granted – she gave me this Time _Turner_ to go to several classes at once. Only I was trying to loosen the chain and the pendant fell – it shattered on the floor. And then _I was so stupid_ I tried to pick it up – and, well, I came here."

"My, my, that's quite a tale."

**)O(**

"So, Hermione, what did Wallace say?"

"Well, he didn't say much of anything, t'be honest. Just – "

"Sent you away?"

"Um, yes…"

"And I assume he's kept hold of that necklace what caused all this?"

"He did."

"Not to worry then, darling. He'll have the problem fixed in no time – a right magician my husband is. Brilliant and loves to tinker… Now, why don't we see about getting you cleaned up?"

"Oh, I'm fine really, I've got my wand – _Scourgify_."

"Sweet Merlin, child! What was – what was that you did just now?"

"Er, a spell… a cleansing charm?"

"We've got one of those – but the incantation's much longer._ Symud yr holl budreddi_."

"_Remove all filth_ – it's in English?"

"No, Welsh, why would you – oh, my stars, I'm quite the fool! Just before you woke, dear, I cast a spell to give you knowledge of our tongue. You'd been mumbling silly made-up words before, you see, and Helga was simply too eager to speak to you – I hope you don't mind?"

"No, of course not… so I'm speaking Welsh right now? Really?"

"Yes, and I too. It's only sensible."

"But then – oh! Wales! _From valley broad_ – it all makes sense!"

"…Right, dear – now, I have to go start supper; why don't you play with sweet Helga for a mite? She'd be thrilled and it'd be a nice way to pass the time."

**)O(**

"So, Mummy sent you to play with me?"

"Er… how old are you?"

"I'm eight. I think. Not quite sure, though; we don't really care about such things – Daddy said you're from the future?"

"Yes. And in my time age is very, very important."

"Why? And what's your name, anyway?"

"Hermione. Um, Granthorn. And – can I call you Helga?"

"Yes, please do!"

"Right, then. Age is sort of… oh, I don't know – it defines who you are, in a way. People interact with one another based on age – it determines how smart you are; what you learn; what you know – t'be honest it's a sort of label that split people into groups."

"…Oh."

"Don't you have anything like that here, in, um, Wales?"

"Well, I suppose… Mum only lets me play with people like me; magic folk, like. With magical parents. We stay away from the mudbloods – is that like those _groups_ you were talking about?"

"…"

"Hermione?"

"_Mudbloods_?"

"Er, yes… don't you know? It's someone with muggle parents – and they aren't as smart as us, so it's just like you were saying. They stay together and keep from us."

"You call them _mudbloods_?"

"What other name is there?"

"What about muggleborn?"

"But where's the fun in that? They _are_ mudbloods – Mummy sometimes says one great cleansing spell would wipe the lot of them out – Hermione? Are you all right?"

"_You're Helga Hufflepuff and you call them mudbloods_?"

"Well, yeah, I already said – but what's my name got to do with any – ?"

"Suppertime!"

"We've got to go now – Mum doesn't like when I'm late."

**)O(**

"Wallace – get in here now! The children are waiting!"

"I'm sorry, Laverna dearest – but I believe I've solved Miss Granthorn's problem!"

"Really, sir? You have?"

"Why yes, I _yn credu fy mod wedi. Mae'n eithaf syml, mewn gwirionedd, mae'r cyfan wedi ei wneud gyda symbol hwn ychydig ar yr ymyl. Byddwch yn gweld?_"

"Sir? I'm sorry; I can't understand that."

"_Beth ydych chi'n ei olygu?_"

"I can't understand! Why're you speaking rubbish – the spell, has it stopped – "

"_Rwy'n meddwl fy sillafu cyfieithu wedi rhoi'r gorau i weithio i'r annwyl tlawd - dyma i chi fynd, annwyl. _Gadewch i ddeall fy nhafod. There, that's better now."

"Very, thank you. What – what just happened?"

"'Twas the spell, love. You know the only way to truly learn is through work – magic can't do it. The best you can get is a mirror of another's familiarity, so that's what I did; created a temporary link into a portion of my own brain. It's why you can understand our language now. 'Tisn't permanent, though, and unfortunately has a bit of a mind of its own. The spell wears off every so often."

"Oh. All right, then. So… "

"Ah, yes! Now that our little evening drama has been settled – I believe I've worked out our own Miss Granthorn's fix."

"How d'you mean, sir?"

"Well, 'tis quite simple, to be honest, m'dear. I don't have the pendant with me – but it all has to do with a small symbol engraved on its edge. I like to call it the turnaround device. Any ideas why?"

"Er… no, sir."

"Sorry, Daddy, I dunno."

"That's quite all right, girls – didn't expect you to know. It's a sort of half-circle, though, with a single line through it spelling out a word with runes. Four, to be exact; I believe they were Raido, Inguz and Eihwaz – in other words, symbolizing a journey of beginnings and ends. That's not important, though; the final one is. Wyrd, the rune of Fate."

"Fate. And… um, you're saying fate's going to get me home?"

"Precisely."

"…"

"Pay no mind to the great oaf, Hermione; he gets like this sometimes. Now, _Wallace_, be a dear and tell the girl what you've discovered, won't you?"

"Oh, all right. My apologies for the scare, Miss Granthorn – 'twas all in good fun, o' course, but I suppose it wasn't in the best taste. The truth is that your Time Turner has a built-in reversal for accidents such as this one. The shattering of the glass activates it; by my calculations it takes about a week to set in."

"So I'll be… back in my time in a week?"

"Five days now, love – you were out for quite a while, after all."

"Exactly. All you need is to wear your funny little necklace at all times – come with me after dinner and I'll hand it over – and the magic'll do its work. You need not worry at all."

**)O(**

"Hermione, why're you so sad-looking? Daddy said you'll be home in a couple o' days."

"No, I know; that's wonderful, of course… Helga, can I talk to you?"

"Of course."

"This is serious, now – tell me why you don't like mug – _mudbloods_."

"Oh. Well, um, Mummy and Daddy say – "

"I don't care what they say. How about you? Why do _you_ feel that way?"

"They're dirty."

"Sorry?"

"Well, down in the village when I go with Mum to buy bread I see them and they're all dirty an' mucky. I _hate_ dirt and it gets all over my dress when they touch!"

"Maybe they don't like the dirt, either. Maybe you should help them clean up."

"…But why would I want to do that?"

"I'll put it a different way – have you ever heard of the saying 'a diamond in the rough?'"

"Er, no."

"Oh, silly me – of course you wouldn't have. Anyway, basically it means that people are often more beautiful – special – _inside_ than outside. Maybe that's what the muggleborns are like, Helga. Maybe they're wonderful people inside who just don't know how to get… clean. Does that make sense?"

"But they're inferior to us no matter what."

"Why d'you say that?"

"Because… um, they're stupid… and crass… Hermione, why can't you understand?"

"They're stupid? Then teach them. They're crass? Explain to them how _not_ to be. Helga, I'm not blaming you for your beliefs but I do wish you would listen to mine. I – "

"But why do you care so much?"

"Why? Why do I _care_? Helga, I _care_ because I come from a time rife with prejudice and _hate_. I come from a time where my best friend's mum and dad died fighting a pureblood-supremacist madman – I come from a time where the Nazis killed the Jews and you're judged by the color of your skin and the magical world's no better at all – and I thought, I _thought _that you were different but you aren't – "

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Why're you crying?"

"I – I'm sorry, Helga, I'm just having a bad day is all. Shouldn't take it out on you."

"Mum always says a hug makes everything better."

"Well I don't think – _oof_. Thanks, that does feel nice."

"So… you really care about this mudblood stuff?"

"More than anything in the world."

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I promise to think about it, then. If it's so important to you."

"That's all I'm asking."

**)O(**

"Hermione?"

"Wait one second… just need to mark this page… yes? Helga, did you know your mum has some _amazingly_ priceless books in this library? Not monetary value, of course – couldn't care less about that – but the _knowledge _is astounding! These have been lost for centuries when I come from – "

"I had a question."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Here, sit down."

"Thanks. Anyway, what you said… remember how I promised to think about it?"

"Yes?"

"Well… I think _maybe_ I could go play with the mud – um, _muggleborns_ next time Mum takes me down to the village. If she says it's allowed, of course. And I'd have to wear my worst dress."

"You know, there are always cleaning charms, Helga."

"Yes, but not for the germs – "

"What germs?"

"They infect you. Make you dirty. And non-magical."

"But muggleborns are magical, too, aren't they? And I'm sure you've come into contact with them once or twice – your mum and dad, too. Do you still have your magic?"

"…I guess so. Maybe I won't wear my worst dress, then. But not my best."

"That's fine. Oh, and Helga?"

"Yes?"

"I'm proud of you. Really, _really_ proud."

**)O(**

"Hermione?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I played with Aaron today. He's a mudblo – a, um, muggleborn. And it was – "

"It was what?"

"Kind of… _fun_."

"That's marvelous, Helga."

"So you don't think Mum and Daddy'll be mad?"

"No. You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think your parents love you more than anything in the world, Helga. And they don't care _whom_ you play with as long as you're happy."

**)O(**

"Hermione, I was wondering… you said I should teach the, um, stupid ones. What about a school for them?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

**)O(**

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Will you… will you be my big sister? I've never had one before."

"I will – but first I want to tell you something."

"All right."

"I'm a muggleborn, Helga."

"…"

"Do you still want me as your sister?"

"…Yes."

**)O(**

"Hermione? I don't want you to go."

"I have to leave tomorrow, Helga, or I'll never get back home. I have a mum and dad too, y'know, and I miss them."

"But I want more time with you."

"I know, Helga. Come here. Time doesn't stop for you, or anyone – this is all we've got. But I'll never forget you. You know that, right?"

"I love you, Hermione. And I won't forget you either."

**)O(**

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ronald?"

"What'd McGonagall wanna talk about? What were you in – detention? Ha, as if."

"Actually, I was a thousand years in the past befriending a prejudiced Helga Hufflepuff. It was quite fun – I managed to teach her the value of muggleborns. She was worse than Slytherin at the start."

"…Hermione?"

"Mmmm?"

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

_**finis**_


End file.
